


Mo Leannan

by captainflintsjacket



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Holiday Dinner, just some good ol’ fashioned pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:42:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainflintsjacket/pseuds/captainflintsjacket
Summary: This was…part of the christmas prompts...I think it was like "Person A pretends to be Person B's partner at a family dinner" or smth like that. Also, Mo Leannan is Scotts Gaelic for “my beloved."





	Mo Leannan

“I don’t know how you talked me into this,” Scotty muttered, fidgeting with the tie around his neck. He felt like he was in primary school again.

You swatted his hands away, smoothing down the lapels of his jacket. “Because I offered you free dinner for a week and a bottle of Jameson. Now, are you ready?”

“Aye, if we have to.”

“We do, my love,” you said, testing how the words felt on your tongue. Scotty closed his eyes, imagining how those words would sound if you actually meant them.

“Then let’s go, darling.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead as if it was the most natural thing in the world. How could he ever tell you that it was? That he’d dreamed about kissing you, about holding you the way he was now? An arm slung low across your back as he led you to the front door of your parents’ house, the knock on the door almost as loud as the beating in his chest.

Your father opened the door, scooping you up in his arms and then stealing Scotty away, no doubt to give him the “dating my daughter” talk. You mouthed the word sorry to him over your shoulder as your mother ushered you into the kitchen to help finish up dinner. She kept you busy with questions about you and Scotty. How you met was easy enough, because you could just tell her the truth. You’d met at Starfleet. He hand picked you out of the new cadets to help him on the Enterprise.

The story of how you got together was more difficult to tell. Every word stuck in your throat, wanting at once to be free and to be true but unable to be both. “It was after a grav plate failure on the Enterprise,” you smiled, setting silverware down on the table. “We finally got them fixed and gravity turned back on, but Scotty and I weren’t harnessed in so we both fell. He helped me up and said, ‘Guess I can’t help fallin’ for ya,” you said with a smile that was genuine enough. It might not be what happened, but it was certainly what you wished had happened.

Your mother put a hand over her heart and tutted. “Oh. So romantic.” Then, she went back to setting the food out.

Dinner felt like an eternity. The combination of the wine in your cup and Scotty’s leg pressed against yours was too much. You were on fire. When Scotty dropped his hand under the table to rest on your thigh, you thought your heart might honestly give out. He played his part so well even you forgot it was fake for a moment.

Scotty couldn’t, though. Every time he looked at you, he felt his heart break a little more. It was stupid, but he wished he could be the hair you tucked behind your ears, just to feel your fingers run against him. Or that he could be the glass in your hand and feel your lips press against him in earnest. You told him he was selfless for doing this for you, but, in truth, it was as much for him as for you. How else would he get to feel your thigh against his hand? Skin warm where the bottom of your dress ended. He brushed it with his thumb and caught your eye, sending you a smile he hoped wasn’t obviously love struck.

You knew there was something wrong. Despite the same wise cracking and luminous smile Scotty always had, there was a sadness in his eyes you couldn’t place. You rushed through dinner, eager to finish before your parents asked you to stay the night. Your mom noticed and asked Scotty while he helped her clear the plates instead. He agreed without thinking, and as he stood in the doorway of your childhood room he wondered why he never stopped to think around you.

“I can take the floor,” he offered, not sure what else to say.

You rolled your eyes, slipping your heels off and tossing them to the corner. “It’s big enough for both of us. I’m gonna head to the shower. Feel free to get comfy.” You pecked him on the lips before you left the room and Scotty’s world stopped.

Or maybe it started. Suddenly he could feel it moving. Like Atlas shrugged and left him on uneven ground. Why did you kiss him? There was no one around. No one to convince, and yet you kissed him, however briefly. He studied himself in the mirror as he changed into the sweatpants your father lent him. Scotty passed a finger over his lips and thought, of all things, about his baptism. He was born again.

You pressed your forehead against the shower tile, letting the water run down your back. It was cold, but did nothing to calm the fire burning under your skin. Why did you kiss him? Why did you even bring him? It would have been so much easier to bring Jim. You could’ve kissed him all night and not felt a thing.

With a sigh, you turned the water off. You knew you couldn’t hide in the bathroom forever, so you trudged back to your room like you were facing the executioner’s block. Scotty was already asleep when you walked back in, and you breathed a sigh of relief. You tried to slide under the covers without disturbing him.

He was awake when you walked in, though he didn’t open his eyes. Scotty wanted to savor the smell of you as you. He could have cried when you curled up next to him, the scent of lavender and vanilla drifting over. He wanted to reach out to you. To hold you against his chest like he used to do with his teddy bear when he got scared because he was scared now. Scared because he knew this would have to end. Scared because he knew he couldn’t go back to being your friend.

Scotty listened as your breathing evened out, and in the darkness of your room he pulled together his courage. He turned to lie against you, his chest to your back, and put an arm around your waist. He’d say he must have done it in his sleep. That even the universe could see how perfectly the two of you fit together. “Good night, mo leannan.”

A whisper so quiet you thought it might have been the air conditioner kicking on. You fought the urge to respond, letting Scotty’s words wrap around you until there was nothing but you and him and the thin cloth of your shirts between you. It felt like miles.

You weren’t sure when you fell asleep. You weren’t sure when you woke up, either, or if you even woke up at all. Waking up with Scotty’s arm still wrapped around you felt like a dream. You could feel him breathing, could feel the sheen of sweat between your bodies, could feel the heat of his heart if you closed your eyes again and concentrated hard enough.

Then he stretched, first out then in like the tide, pulling you back into him. You felt his legs, his hips, the side of his face pressing into your neck. You felt his lips brush your skin as he took a deep breath and froze, pulling away so fast you turned with him.

“Morning,” you smiled, stretching as if you’d just woken up too. You saw the same sadness in Scotty’s eyes that you’d spotted last night.

“Mornin’,” he chirped, happy as always.

You tried to think of something to say but nothing came. There was a tension in the air. Scotty felt it too, and excused himself to the bathroom before the weight of it became too much. Before he lost himself in the sight of you in the morning: hair disheveled from sleep, a mark on your face where you’d slept on your arm.

When he came back, you were dressed, wearing the same clothes as yesterday. The dress that hugged your frame, falling over your thighs in a way that made Scotty worry about his heart. He stopped in the doorway and watched you whisper to yourself.

You were going to tell him. You had to tell him. Scotty deserved to know how you felt. You weren’t sure how you were going to tell him, but you knew you had to. With that decision made, you turned to leave the room, only to find Scotty standing there, smiling at you. He tensed when you locked eyes and threw his hands up.

“I’m not peeping I swear. You were dressed when I got here.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I’m not,” Scotty said, mind trying to catch up to his mouth. “Not that I don’t want to see you get dressed. I’m sure your knickers are lovely.”

You laughed as Scotty’s cheeks turned as red as his hair. “If you want to see them, you just have to ask nicely.”

“Course I want to see ‘em,” Scotty smiled.

Your breath caught in your throat. This felt different than your normal banter. You wanted it to be flirting, but there was only one way to know for sure.

“There’s something I have to tell you,” you said at the same time as Scotty. You looked at each other and laughed again. “You first,” you said together again.

“Oh Christ,” Scotty muttered, taking a step forward and closing the distance between you. He slid a hand around the back of your neck, putting the other on your hip as he pulled you closer until finally your lips met.

Your hand went to his shoulder, bunching up the fabric of his shirt, as the other hand ran through Scotty’s short hair. His tongue brushed your lips, but you pulled away as you heard footsteps coming up the stairs. You felt like a kid again getting caught with a boy in her room.

“My mom’s coming,” you whispered, still tasting the mouthwash on Scotty’s tongue.

“So,” Scotty asked, pressing his lips to yours again. “We’re supposed to be in love, aren’t we?”

“Are we?” You asked and time froze as Scotty tried to find the words to tell you that yes, he’s loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you. That sometimes he feels like he can’t breathe from the weight of it. Of course he was in love with you.

Instead, Scotty smoothed out a wrinkle in the shoulder of your dress and said, “Ladies first.”

“Yes,” you breathed without hesitation.

“Oh thank God,” Scotty said, “I would’ve felt like a right dick for kissing you otherwise.” With that, he pulled you into another kiss, not breaking it until your mother broke you apart, cooing about how cute the two of you were together.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Tumblr @trade-baby-blues


End file.
